Millennia ago, the most cherished of God’s children committed a primordial sin—so grave a crime that God cast him out of the heavens into the abyss below.

His wings, symbols of his divine grace, were torn away as punishment. In their place, as though in defiance of his Father’s will, the child sprouted a scaly, serpentine tail.

His once-radiant presence transformed into a ferocious beast, a distorted reflection of his own psyche. This disfigured body remained a constant reminder of his unforgivable transgression.

Cast down from the heavens, he fell like a blazing star.

“What did I do wrong?” Lucifer wondered. “I only wanted to take them to the light.”

“I am not wrong! It’s them—they are wrong! The world is wrong!” Lucifer raged as he plummeted, consumed by fury. In his final act of resentment, he renounced the name bestowed upon him by his Father.

Thus did Lucifer, the Light Bearer, become Satan, the Adversary.

With his descent, Satan ushered in a new era—the age of demons. Towering reptiles that roamed the land could not withstand his transcendental might. Mindless and frail in comparison, they offered him no real solace or companionship.

Driven by madness and the loneliness gnawing at his being, Satan discovered he had inherited his Father’s gift: the power of creation.

From this divine prowess, he fashioned the first primordial demons in his own image.

Lucifer, the demon of the mind, born of Satan’s magical energy. The name served as a perpetual echo of his forsaken past.

Goliath, the demon of the body, sprouting from Satan’s severed ring finger—a testament to his once-perfect grace.

Prometheus, the demon of the spirit, conjured from a fragment of Satan’s own soul, endowed with unrelenting resolve.

These three children distracted Satan from his torment, yet they failed to sate his twisted need for love. Solitude, an unending curse, devoured him from within.

So he continued creating children in the likeness of those three primordial demons, each reflecting one of his triad of qualities. In time, these offspring became the race called demons.

God, enraged by His child’s blasphemous deeds, unleashed the full wrath of heaven upon the earth. A grand war erupted.

Although the demons were fewer in number, they proved formidable adversaries against the angelic legions. As long as the battle raged, demons often prevailed.

Amid the bloodshed, certain angels and demons alike grew weary of endless strife. They laid down arms and united, not for conquest or dominion, but for peace.

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Over generations, these deserters intermingled and lost their powers, becoming progenitors of a third race: humans.

Humans lacked magic, their smallness stark against the towering presence of angels or demons. Yet they possessed a trait neither of the two older races understood—mortality. Their fleeting lives, so short and fragile, brought them happiness and a boundless capacity for growth.

In the civilizations that emerged, humans revered both angels and demons as gods, sometimes relying on their powers for survival. Every culture spun its own mythology, a tapestry of truth and legend chronicling the ceaseless war between heaven and the underworld.

In time, Satan’s first and third sons tired of the conflict. Enchanted by humanity’s ability to create—a spark inherited from their progenitors—they chose to forsake their father’s side and dwell among mortals.

Lucifer, living alongside humans, adopted the guise of a magician—Merlin—indulging in human pleasures.

Prometheus, meanwhile, bequeathed humans a miraculous gift: the power to harbor angelic or demonic souls through a contract, thus channeling supernatural might.

This gift, however, had dire repercussions. A demon’s soul did not vanish upon death but clung to robust human hosts, promising power while gradually corrupting them from within.

During the Middle Ages, Lucifer joined forces with the angels on the condition that his wings be restored. He crafted a seal capable of imprisoning the demon horde beneath the earth’s crust. His brother Goliath opposed him, and despite Goliath’s superior strength, Lucifer deceived and killed him.

The plan succeeded. The demons, along with every other creature of demonic lineage, were sealed away. The great war ended—briefly.

Lucifer, having regained his wings, was betrayed by the angels who tore them off as a cruel mockery. His body, further twisted, grew a monstrous tail beyond imagining. Isolated and unable to master his warped form, he was slain by the very beings he had aided.

Prometheus, the last primordial demon, evaded this imprisonment. He remains distant from angels and demons alike, sequestered in a realm beyond their reach.

The sealing of demons beneath the earth’s crust ushered in a new epoch: the Age of Man. With the demons gone, humans turned their weapons upon one another. No magic shaped these wars—technology did, and thus they fought among themselves.

Centuries passed. Human innovation soared, binding the globe under the Internet’s watchful net. Yet beneath this veneer of progress slumbered old powers and ancient grudges.

In the early 2000s, a chilling prophecy spread across forums and mystics’ pulpits alike. A date—December 21, 2012—surfaced from diverse sources: the Mayan calendar, so-called prophets, and cryptic digital rumors. Many dismissed it as baseless hysteria; others believed the end was near. But no one was ready for what truly came to pass.

On December 21, 2012, the seal between the mortal realm and the demonic horde broke. Demons roamed free once more.

Countless demon souls surged from the underworld, seeking powerful humans. And so arose a new term—contractors—those mortals who harnessed demonic strength, risking their humanity in the process.

In the ensuing cataclysm, humankind’s world was razed. From its ashes, a new order emerged, one where humans strove for dominance all over again.

The military was helpless against demons the size of skyscrapers. Had they enjoyed another century to refine their technology, they might have stood a chance. As it happened, the war was futile—a fight mankind was sure to lose.

In desperation, humans erected a space elevator and built a floating city: the last human city on Earth. Those who could not ascend settled at the base of the elevator. Over time, the Lower City expanded, home to both humans and contractors. A group called the Knights seized control, restricting entry only to weaker contractors, endeavoring to maintain order in a world perched on the edge of annihilation.